


Huh (Beta)

by EleanorSmith



Series: A Facet of Infinity [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: EU-era inserts, F/M, Gen, dunno how this will progress, guess who was a big fan of SW Infinites?, hey look its my oc from the other story, looking at friendship and slow burn, nervous tension, reader also is a nervous wreck, reader has social anxiety, started on a whim, this is beta so crit is welcome, writing from own experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7037698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanorSmith/pseuds/EleanorSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've landed at job at the First Order! Yay!</p><p>Your life is about to take a drastic change! Not so yay!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Synthesizer

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so uh
> 
> reader vs weird space magic and kylo ren
> 
> just read the damn thing it's almost 10 and i have to work in the morning and there's no way i'm spoiling the chapter in the tags
> 
> <3

It wasn't the most glamorous of jobs, but at this point in your life, you weren't really in the position to pick and choose. Born in a system near the Maw--maybe about two-and-a-half systems from the infamous Bernuda Cluster--in a pocket of the galaxy that barely hinged on decency. The planetary government had taken to trading with raiders that decided there really wasn't much to steal from a planet with no real economy.

Primary and secondary education as a whole wasn't even sub par, but you averaged and graduated. In a stroke of luck, you'd won a scholarship and managed to get sent to the next system over on a little moon-planet called Khoria. You ended up dropping out, only because the high stress environment--while comparable to that of your homeworld--was too much for you. Wanting a bit more, you snagged a job that managed to pay slightly more than normal, allowing you to save money and purchase higher access to the HoloNet. With the resource at your disposal, you downloaded a variety of things you could stimulate your brain with.

From languages to engineering to coding, you ate it all up. Kriff, you even managed to find a vid for a DIY synthesizer (and you were damned proud of it, considering, at the time, you had limited knowledge with electrical and wiring.) In less than five years, a plethora of typical talents became your calling, and your father was proud of his jack-of-all-trades child.

But, finances were getting tight and your talents weren't paying the bills. Reaching out to several of your extended family, you found that one of your cousins had gotten a job with the notorious First Order, and the pay was phenomenal. That nibling was contacted and within a month you were on your way to one of the flagships: _Judgment_.

Three months passed without incident. The superiors appreciated your many-faceted skills and you'd been praised by over a dozen lieutenants. In fact, they seemed frustrated that you denied any promotion. Unofficially, the word had been passed that you worked best where you were. The real reason was that the pressure of rank and responsibility almost got you institutionalized back in secondary, something the immediate higher-ups no doubt kept highlighted in your file.

Modesty humbled all those above you; anxiety clawed its way through your chest every time one of them spoke to you. It wasn't very well known that your social anxiety and fear of recognition was shielded by your knee-jerk positive mask and nervous, mundane chatter. You were just 'quirky', according to everyone. Those who did know didn't question your mental hang ups; you did your job, did it well, and accomplished tasks without complaint. And there was the fact your disorder didn't essentially complicate your proficiency or interfere with others.

Finding people to talk with was, undoubtedly, a difficult matter. Everyone was so tight-lipped since the destruction of the Starkiller planet--a subject that made bile crawl up into your throat. You were silently glad the kriffing WMD was gone. A weapon that could destroy an entire system--even if the Order _was_ trying to prevent the Republic from corrupting the galaxy--seemed a little too extreme for your tastes. Words of consolation were doled to those who lost companions on the station, but your mouth kept shut otherwise.

You had three--maybe four--people you could talk with when the work schedules allowed you to cross paths in the mess hall or commons. Even though you loathed social interaction, you enjoyed gossip to no end. It was entertaining to know who killed who, what's going on in this system, or when someone high ranking would be on board. You learned Supreme Leader Snoke never left his hideaway, the Knights of Ren were a terrifying force with a magic wielding leader, and if any generals and admirals were on board, keep your head low and answers quick and concise--because if you wasted their time, your skull would be decorating their desk.

It reminded you a bit of your teenage years when everyone dressed in black and spikes and were a little too aggressive, picking fights whenever for dominance. You weren't sure if it was amusing or a tidbit worrisome.

Then the news came in. A very, _very_ important general and commander were coming on board for a few weeks and the Judgment was to partake in a series of missions to eradicate the Resistance from a nearby system. You weren't worried; the dreadnought had never seen more than six or seven sorties and barely taken any damage. You were safe here, and confident that the Order would succeed.

That confidence wavered after the urgent report reached you.

Damage assessment: severe internal damage in the interrogation suite. And since you were assigned to maintenance--with skills in circuitry, wiring, and integrity repair--the higher-ups contacted you first.

Your mind whirled with what could have happened on your way there, skimming the report, but not getting much from it. Had one of the prisoners from the most recent drop manage to get a hold of a thermal? Why wasn't there more on the report other than "severe damage?"

As you approached, you noticed a tall man in a crisp, black uniform. The badges on his sleeve made your fingers clenched around the datapad. Stilling your panic, you swallowed roughly. Obviously, someone important would be here. It was a very critical incident, surely.

He turned to you, his blue-green eyes scrutinizing you. Nearly an arm-and-a-half away, you stopped and saluted him.

"Technician," His voice was posh, and you were reminded of an Imperial. "You are two minutes _earlier_ than what I had anticipated."

Anxiety bled into your throat, and before you could stop yourself, a quick apology escaped your lips. His eyes narrowed as his hands crossed behind his back.

"You're sorry?" He seemed a bit taken aback, despite the very unreadable expression on his face.

Thinking quickly, you said, "I should have been here faster."

That earned you a tight--yet amused--smile. "I admire your ambition," He gestured you into the suite. "This way."

You stilled for a moment, startled from the compliment and that he was motioning you into the damaged room, but gathered yourself and walked in. What you saw was only something you had heard of through the gossip in the mess.

It was still somewhat intact as an interrogation suite--except the cot near the backside of the room looked like it had gone through a metal shredder. And the walls were red and partly melted with what looked like high-frequencer blaster bolts. And when you turned the door frame had been erratically slashed into un-pretty metal ribbons. And the floor was warped into swirls like they had been melted beneath someone's feet. And--

Okay, who were you kidding? The room had been torn asunder and the only way anyone could know it was an interrogation suite was from the marker on the datapad.

You turned to the completely demolished console near the door without expression, more shock than anger, and the only word you could muster was:

"Huh."

The officer was silent for too long and you looked to him, noting he was scrutinizing you again with those clear-blue-green eyes. You blinked twice at him, unsure if you should say anything more.

"That's a first for any reaction to one of Ren's violent tantrums." He said, his arms now at his side.

"I'm...sorry?" You said, unsure of the response you should have made.

He waved a dismissive hand and entered the room fully. "No need. You've no doubt heard about these outbursts," You had. "I'm here to apologize on the Orders' behalf for the work ahead of you."

"Apologize, sir?" You tilted your head at him.

"We're under-staffed. You're the only technician allocated to the repair of this room." He said.

"Oh," You replied, going to scratch the underside of your chin but remembering yourself, the errant hand returning to your side. "Okay."

He turned once more, that narrowed-eyed look on his face. "Okay?" He seemed taken aback again.

"I mean," You breathed in, thinking of a response. "I understand."

He nodded his head slowly. "Of course," His hands folded behind his back again. "Do you have any questions, technician?"

"Will I have access to the materials I'll need to repair the damage?" You resisted checking the datapad and instead waited for his response patiently.

"Everything you need for this task will be distributed per request, except personnel."

"I understand, sir."

"Good," He brushed out a wrinkle on the front of his suit. "Start work immediately. Your schedule is cleared until it is done."

"Yes, sir."

He strode out of the room and you surveyed the work ahead of you. Six, maybe seven days, if you had some caf and stims, otherwise three weeks at best. It was a mess, but it wasn't as bad as when your roommate from University blew up the science wing's bathroom. That had taken a good two months to fix, even with help.

As the door slid shut, your fingers danced across the datapad for the immediate equipment, materials, and tools you'd need from your department and you began to clean up debris.


	2. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Efficiency might as well have been your first name. It was actually a really mundane name, but you could dream.
> 
> And what kind of a name is that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws EU in your face*
> 
> i will integrate it all and you will enjoy it

Day one was mostly moving anything that wasn't salvagable into the gurney outside the room for recycling, including damaged durasteel that needed to be removed from the walls and floor. That took six hours. You were strong, of course, but not _that_ strong. Whenever a trooper was passing in patrol, you'd requested their help. Only six obliged. When the worst of the damage had been removed--which was most of the durasteel, sadly--the suite looked like the inside of a very complex CPU.

The next eight hours--after three cups of caf--was dedicated to pulling out damaged wiring and supports while making sure the room didn't buckle on itself. From one side to the other, you improved the integrity and replaced old and damaged wiring, stringing it all efficiently. There was more room in the walls now, but you found that was to be expected when you got a hold of something.

After that, you lost track of time and used your first stimpak. The delicate process of rebuilding the decimated console before the durasteel could be replaced would take you almost a day, and you would be elbow deep in exposed conduits. Your only indication that your time had bled into day two was when your chrono alerted you.

Then it was back to caf until the second bout of extreme fatigue hit.

When the console was done (and, damn it, you were proud! You only shocked yourself three times!), you moved on to test the wiring from the day before.

Day two bled into day three as you started the laborious effort of hauling the floors and walls in to cover your handiwork. That took all of the third day, and by then, you knew you had to take a day of rest. You'd been eyeing the third stimpak greedily and a full eighteen hours of sleep would probably do you good before you got the interrogation cot installed and calibrated.

A wide yawn escaped you as someone cleared their throat near the door. You covered your mouth and turned to face the officer--who you found out was, in fact, General Hux--standing a few meters behind you. At first, you wondered why you hadn't heard the door swish open, but then remembered you'd deactivated the door and left it ajar since it was easier to access the maintenance cart outside.

"Technician." He greeted, surveying the work.

"General, sir." You managed to say without yawning again.

"This is impressive," He stood with his hands behind his back again. "Only three days and the room is nearly intact."

"Thank you, sir." You said, voice sounding monotone.

He seemed to dismiss your tone as he asked, "When will it be done?"

"Day after tomorrow, sir."

"Two more days?"

"Yes, sir," His eyes narrowed. "I require a day of rest. I've been running on caf and stims."

Blue eyes widened as his arms fell forward and slack to his sides in what you assumed could only be shock, despite his unreadable expression. "You've been working for three days straight?"

You nodded. "Yes, sir."

He seemed to be at a loss for words as his eyes slowly took in the room again. You fidgeted a bit then straightened, remembering that if you did anything wrong, your skull would very much be outside of your head.

"Very well," He straightened once more, his eyes back on you. "Do not make a habit of using such things." His voice seemed to seethe at the last word, as if saying stimpak would poison him forever.

"I don't, sir." More words were about to flood out, but your mouth with an audible click as your teeth clanked together. His eyes narrowed once more and he raised his chin.

"I will be back in two days to see the finalized work." You nodded and mumbled an affirmative, and he strut from the room.

A shuddering breath in through your nose and a sigh later, the room had been locked and you let your legs lead you to the mess. Or, at least that was the plan, until the caf crash hit and you found yourself no less than six meters from the entrance of said mess, sprawled forward on the floor. You started to reconsider your life choices right then and there, thinking how farming wasn't such a bad career option. Plenty of sunlight, outdoor time, free food...

"Are you okay?" A deep voice asked, and you turned your head to look up at a man looking down at you, deep set concern in his brows.

"No?" You answered. Wait, no, that wasn't the right answer. "Yes! I'm fine! Just taking a nap!" Right, okay, that wasn't right either, and you pursed your lips. "No," You amended. "I need help up." That probably wasn't the right answer either, but before you could further amend _that_ answer, he was kneling down and helping you to your feet.

"Do you need help getting to medical?" He asked.

"No, I just need to get to the mess hall." You bent to the side and dusted off your pant leg.

"Mess hall? For medical attention?" You looked up as he raised a brow. The expression shifted the scar above his brow upwards and your eye was briefly drawn to the small area of grey-white hair that seemed to continue from the edge of it.

"No, for food." An obvious answer.

"Food?" His brow furrowed again as he contemplated you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No, not really," Kriff, you were rambling, being too casual. "I'm just ending a daunting shift. I need food and rest."

He seemed to relax a bit and a tight smile graced his features. "Then allow me to assist you, just in case you decide to take a nap in the corridor again?" He offered.

Shrugging, you thought it would probably be best, considering how the floor had become a wall in such a quick time. "Sure. The more, the merrier." Babbling, again.

He then took you by surprise by offering his arm. Unsure if you should take it--and judgment clouded by sudden withdrawal and exhaustion--you did, and he guided you into the mess.

As he helped you find the appropriate foodstuffs to stave off three days worth of vacuum-packed nutrient bars, introductions were exchanged. Lieutenant-Commander Jagged Fel was part of the party that had been charged with taking this sector from the Resistance. Your anxiety curdled in your stomach as you slowly shoveled the nutrient paste--which you had smothered with as much sugar and flavor as possible--into your mouth as you gave him your name and rank.

"A technician?" He seemed thoughtful. "Explains the dark circles under your eyes."

"Oh, those?" You swallowed and tapped your spoon on the bowl. "No, it's from years of an afflicted condition known as life." Ah, yes, too casual and dry.

His brow furrowed, but a smile still tugged at his lips. "Are you always so blunt?"

"No. Yes. Maybe," You pursed your lips, looking into the paste. "I'm really tired." You admitted, your voice sounding hollow.

"I can see that," He bit into the fruit he'd picked out and chewed. "I'll help you to your quarters when you're done eating."

Your head snapped up and your trademark 'nerf-in-the-floodlights' expression was no doubt plastered on your face. "No! You don't have to, sir! I'm fine, really!"

A few heads from the surrounding tables turned at your outburst and you felt your face heating up. You turtled up and gazed into your food as if it was the only thing that ever mattered.

"I insist," Fel said, taking another bite from his fruit. "I suppose old habits die hard."

You gazed up at him with a furrowed brow, but his sight was on some officers nearby. Instead of turning to look, you focused on your food and scooped up another spoonful.

When you were done, Fel took your dirtied bowl and then assisted you from the mess. As he tried to lead you to the commons, you pulled his sleeve and pointed down a connecting hallway. A brow raised at you, moving the scar and his premature grey hair upwards again.

"I live down here."

"This is a maintenance corridor."

"I know."

He shrugged and led you down the hall five doors until you stopped in front of one of the closets.

"Here?"

"Yep. Thank you, sir." You released his arm and pulled your keypass out.

"This is a closet."

"Yep." The door slid open to reveal what he commented on.

"Are you sure you don't need medical attention?"

"Yep." You stepped in and passed the first row of supplies, him following you in.

"You live in a closet?"

"Yep."

There was a pause after you cleared a second row and a standard issue cot, dresser, and couch came into view. He stopped and stared as you plopped headfirst onto the bed.

"Huh." Was his only response.

You turned your head to face him. "Oh, uh, thank you. For your help. I'm gonna sleep now, sir. I hope you can let yourself out?"

"Of course." His smile was gentle. If he said more, you didn't catch it. You were out like a misaligned breaker before he left your room.

Day four passed, and you dreamed of a warrior and a bard liberating a small village from the chaos within it. They were valiant and strong and quick-witted, but when all was said and done, the village burned.


	3. Complements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you should've sent a comm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent over two hours on this and never proofed it
> 
> here have some more EU and Legends
> 
> *sets self on fire*

You woke with a stiffness that you hadn't felt since the University bathroom incident and stretched, making a noise that would have made a cute kitten jealous. After untangling yourself from several blankets and dressing into standard uniform, you shuffled from the closet and back to the mess for something more than nutrient paste.

When you entered the hall, a familiar voice--light and measured--called to you. Looking over to the table where it had originated, one of your few friends was giving you a thin smile and a wave.

"You're getting popular." She teased in the way that made it sound more factual than teasing.

"It's more bothersome than you think, Tahiri." You retorted, passing the table to the queue. She stood and joined you at the elbow.

Tahiri Veila was probably your closest friend on the Judgment, and even if she wasn't, you were thoroughly convinced that one day the Universe would slam you two together. You both got along in that weird way that only people with unusual baggage did, and her careful personality complemented your anxiety in a way that made things comfortable.

"The Lieutenant-Commander was asking after you," Always to the point, the blonde was. Today, her hair was pulled up into a bun, but the sight of it did nothing to quell your bile curdling in your stomach again. "I said I knew you. He wanted to speak with you when you had a moment."

"What? Why?" She shrugged gently, throwing a bantha link onto your tray before you could pass it. Your lips puckered in thought as you grabbed an entire serving.

That was more part of your friendship than anything; the silent questions and looks. Actions spoke louder than words for the both of you, and the thought crossed your mind if she was always like that, or if she did these things to make sure you were comfortable?

You pointed at a serving of mushed tubers near her and she raised her eyebrow, then looked at the wall chrono. Your own gaze followed, showing it probably wasn't the right time to be eating tubers and narrowed eyes met her green ones. They rolled up in amused annoyance and she scooped two servings onto your tray before shuffling down the line to grab you a hot chocolate and a clear electrolyte drink.

A humble smile pulled at your lips. Tahiri was always thinking of taking care of you when you couldn't be bothered. Before joining her, you grabbed two muffins.

When both of you were seated and eating silently--exchanging glances only the two of you knew about--she spoke up.

"How's the suite?" She asked nonchalantly, as if the news was common knowledge. Tahiri was an intelligence officer, so of course she'd find out where you'd disappeared for three days.

"Almost done," You said as you pushed one of the muffins to her, which she took with another one of her gentle smiles. "To be honest, I can't remember if surveillance cams are mandatory in interrogation suites."

Tahiri hummed in though, picking the muffin top before plopping the piece into her mouth. "Was it not included in your briefing?"

Your face heated up as you shook your head. "It wasn't much of a briefing," You cut open one of the links and chewed on a piece slowly. "The General just said 'fix it' and the work order was very scarce. Even the report that came in was less than informative. I thought maybe one of the prisoners had blown the room to bits."

She snorted, then pulled out her datapad, typing something, then reading. "I doubt any prisoner would have the chance," She kept her eyes on the screen while she scrolled and then turned the pad to you. "Here."

On it was the schematics for the room you were assigned, and, in fact, there was supposed to be a minimum of three surveillance cams that were to be haphazardly wired. You scrunched your nose at that with a frown and when you looked up, Tahiri was giving you a coy smile.

"How much of it did you fix up?" She leaned forward with her head balanced on her hand.

"Enough that I can't wire the cams like that," You chewed on your fork, thinking. "Not without tearing part of the room apart again," Looking up at her again, she gave you a questioning look. "I'd have to extend my deadline by a day. My head's gonna be missing my skull."

She snorted at that and whisked her datapad back. "Considering who gave the order, I don't doubt it."

"That's not helpful, 'Hiri." You replied dryly. Her eyes gave you a whimsical look and you rolled your own as you practically inhaled the mushed tubers.

"Will you be okay?" She asked, and you frowned. You weren't sure if she meant confronting the General or something else, but she was giving you a frown that reminded you that the Lieutenant-Commander wanted to see you. Going somewhere alone that raised your anxiety wasn't your favorite thing, but you nodded.

"He probably just wants to make sure I'm alive," You stood with your tray. "I kinda made a scene."

She smiled with a thin line of teeth at you. "I heard. I'll be telling my grandchildren about it." You gave a disgusted noise and sauntered away, her gentle laughter following you until your feet carried you from the room.

Forcing down your fears, you approached several officers, asking where Lieutenant Fel could be found and ending up in front of the doors to the war room. And it was still in session. A distressed squeak escaped your throat before you smothered it with a sigh and stood at attention at the opposing wall, waiting for the meeting to end.

Your nerves were frayed and fidgety, and you couldn't explain why. You had been in the room plenty of times before, but standing outside it now, there was this ominous presence--violent and resolute. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and instead of resisting a comforting brush through the shortened hair, you dragged your hand from the buzzed back to the longer front.

The action didn't help and you were at unease, even when the door opened and several red-faced officers filed out. Restrained arguing could be heard within and you swallowed a lump that had formed at seeing so many of your superiors at once.

One passed you swiftly, but stopped mid-step, turning to you, and you felt your soul leave your body.

"You're a technician, aren't you?" You bobbed your head quickly. "Follow me." He turned on his heel and re-entered the room, and your complex to follow any order given by a superior on fear of death forced your feet forward.

The room hadn't changed in structure, you noted, since you'd last been there. A bright star in the distance had been dimmed by the dark-transitioned transparisteel viewport at the far end of the room. Several of the lights were set to a frequency you knew for viewing a holo. Except, the projector console in the middle was almost offline, save for the flickers of sparks from the control pad and the occasional corrupted square appearing just above it. The image reminded you of a concert you'd watched one night with stunning light visuals synced with an orchestra.

By the console were several people, two of which you immediately recognized--General Hux and Lieutenant Fel. The others you'd known only by description. A chrome stormtrooper Captain known as Phasma, a blonde man called Colonel Clieg Whitsun, and a tall, dark looming figure known as Kylo Ren.

Hux was leaning over the console, his face as red as his hair and his sharp voice was being thrown at Kylo Ren, who stood opposite of the General with his gloved hands digging into the console. Fel and Whitsun were standing apart from the two men, eyeing the exchange warily as they discussed something in hushed voices. Captain Phasma stood at attention, her hand hovering subtly near the pistol on her belt.

As you and the officer approached, Fel and Whitsun looked up, and Fel's eyebrows shot up, then furrowed at your presence.

"Captain?" Whitsun asked as his eyes drifted from the man to you and back to the man again.

"This technician was waiting outside." The man leading you answered. At that, Hux's head snapped over to the four of you. He approached, dismissing the heated debated he was having with Ren, and eyed you thoughtfully. You could feel your heart giving out with all this undo attention.

He addressed you and you gave a curt nod and a 'sir' before he looked back to the malfunctioning console. "We've had a mishap with the projector," He informed you and you felt your hands get clammy. "I'm aware that this is a rest day for you, but seeing as you're already here, I would have you take a look at it."

It wasn't a request and you managed an affirmative, skirting past the Captain who had led you in and towards the projector, towards the ominous feeling and Kylo Ren. Through his helmet, you could feel his gaze, and you swallowed a lump as you ducked down to the access panel and out of his view.

You never left your room without at least a minimum complement of your tools just in case something like this happened--which was frequent. Technology was known to throw hissy fits and you needed to be prepared for anything. Your over cautiousness may have saved your skin at that moment, until Colonel Whitsun spoke.

"Is it customary on the Judgment for technicians to be loitering around war rooms?" His voice was rough with a hint of Coruscanti, and you felt your blood turn to ice. Did he think you were a saboteur? Or negligent in your duties? Lazy? Sweat formed on your forehead as you checked the wiring and circuitry and began pulling obsolete and damaged components out.

"I actually asked for her." Fel said, and you felt your soul return to your body and made a secret promise to thank him profusely when you weren't surrounded by so many people who could probably kill you with a demotion.

"Really?" Hux spoke next, shuffling towards the other man. "Whatever for? Did you somehow foresee Ren destroying the presentation in a fit of childish anger?"

Several of the wires split open just then and you were hit in the face with sparks, but you managed to keep the cry of pain silent as the men talked. You could see Phasma from your position on your back under the console and her chrome helmet tilted at you, but her hand now rested on her pistol.

"There was an incident in the commons' mess and I wanted to make sure she had recovered." Fel responded and you felt your face heat up again.

Whitsun laughed--an amused, dry, chuckle that reminded you of a long lost uncle who ran a moisture farm on some back water world. "You are far too chivalrous for your own good, Jag. It's a wonder you don't have a wife."

"Incident?" Hux asked, and you wondered if the man was a complete buzzkill at parties.

You yelped as you touched a wire that was, in fact, hot, and you jolted out of your spot, nursing your finger in your mouth. That wasn't right. Several of the cold wires you had found indicated that all but two of the wires should be hot. That meant something at the control console had gone wrong. You looked up to where Kylo Ren stood, just in front of the place you needed to be and you swallowed your distress down.

"Technician?" The man asked, his voice distorted heavily. Everyone's eyes were on you and you felt your soul leave your body once more.

"I need to see the controls." You managed to say calmly, standing and crossing over to him. He moved aside, but did not move away, as you looked at the console. It wasn't a shock to see it completely decimated in much the same way the suite had been. Lips pursed, you began to unscrew the hinges to remove the keypad and expose the intricate wiring beneath, sweating bullets as Ren watched you work.

The conversation between the other four men continued, but you were lost to it as your nervousness bled through every pore, muting everything but the fizzling controls and what you swore was the hum of Ren's vocalizer. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, but your exhale hitched as he spoke.

"You're scared," He rumbled and you felt the blood drain from your face. If you were nervous before, you were worried for your survival now. "Why would that be?"

A hard swallow and you carefully and slowly looked into his visor, an empty blackness full of death. You'd heard the stories--who hadn't? This was the First Order. Ren was a force of finality with his space magic and could kill with a thought. Couldn't he read thoughts? Was he reading your's right now? Panic threatened to constrict your throat.

He was silently watching you, waiting for an answer. What kind of answer could you give? You could lie, but he would know, wouldn't he? Should you be truthful? Your father's voice with the lessons he taught you when you were a young lass and you took another deep breath in.

"I freak out when people are too close or there are too many people." Whoops, too many words, too candid. It was the partial truth and your vision began to darken and you felt your life flee your body.

Or, rather, that's what you would've preferred instead of standing awkwardly in front of Kylo Ren, looking up at him with an arm elbow deep in circuitry trying to find the errant calcinator that caused your finger to get burned, waiting for him to respond while several eyes watch what was about to transpire.

By some miracle, Ren stepped away and strode from the room. Probably to sign your death warrant. You felt yourself deflate.

Fel removed himself from the conversation and approached you, his face unreadable. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Phasma's hand relax away from her pistol.

"Are you okay?" He asked you, giving you a once over, then eyeing your hidden arm curiously.

"I need to be ejected into the sun," You mumbled and he gave you a raised eyebrow. "I'm okay. Just unnerved, sir."

"Ren has the effect on people," Hux called from across the console as he joined you two, Whitsun in tow. The Captain that had dragged you into this hellish nightmare had disappeared during your exchange with Ren. "I'm grateful to see you're in one piece. I would have been hard pressed to find another technician to finish repairs on the suite."

"You could allocate some of the garrison." Whitsun said, and Hux nearly rolled his eyes as he turned on the man.

"I am not having this discussion while we're not in session."

Fel sighed heavily and watched you work, which wasn't as taxing as when Ren watched you. "Are you able to fix it?" He asked as the two men squabbled over tactical poodoo you had a small grasp on.

"Yes, sir," You replied, remembering that your anxiety didn't wholly control you. "I'll need to replace this," You grasped the calcinator, all charred and melted, pulling it from its place and showing it off. "And rewire this side. I shouldn't be more than two hours."

This caught Whitsun's attention. "Only two hours?" His gaze narrowed at Hux. "You're keeping such a valuable asset on a second-rate flagship?"

Your eyebrows furrowed at that comment. You liked the Judgment. It was quiet and safe. Well, had been until their party arrived.

"Until a week ago, I had no idea she existed." Hux responded, as if that one statement ended the conversation.

"Your men are keeping valuable information from you, General?" It was an accusation, and a scathing one as you watched Hux practically bristle. The incident on Starkiller had been damaging to the First Order and Hux's potential career as an Admiral.

For some reason, you spoke up. "Actually, sir, it's my fault," Both men faced you and your face heated up again. "It was a personal decision, and I had to fight for it."

Whitsun's brows furrowed at your response. "But you could be more useful on the Clarity or Finalizer. Your skill is wasted here."

You shook your head. "I've been making improvements to the Judgment since I started three months ago. Efficiency is up twenty percent."

The Colonel's brows threatened to fly off his forehead and into his close-shaved hair. "And you would know that how?"

Ah. There was the kicker. No use hiding information if they were already suspicious of you.

"I have a friend in Intelligence who let me know. She correlated it with where I have made repairs." Your face heated with embarrassment and shame, knowing you just ousted Tahiri.

"What is her name?" Whitsun demanded, his face suddenly that of an experienced officer about to reprimand an insubordinate.

"Veila," Fel's voice startled you, and Whitsun shot a glare at him. "Officer Tahiri Veila," You looked at him with furrowed brows. "She was part of the Ops group six months ago on Dathomir." He said more to Hux and Whitsun than you.

"I suppose she won't be punished for giving privileged information." Whitsun bit.

"I don't see why she should, Colonel?" Hux spun on him. "Considering it was your idea to let the subordinates gossip as they do. Since it was 'good for morale,' as was your claim."

You wondered if you ran fast enough at the viewport you could shatter it and die violently in the vacuum of space. This was a conversation you weren't supposed to be hearing and you ducked your head back into the console, pulling out more damaged wiring.

The men argued for the two hours you were there, and Fel went out of his way to help by retrieving several components to repair the console. He was startling capable of rewiring some bits and asked questions when needed, and you were pretty sure he would walk away having learned something from you.

You typed in a diagnostic and the projector came to life, the planet the Judgment hovered above alive in a blue glow. Hux and Whitsun had stopped their bickering and looked at the display.

"Exemplary work, technician," Hux said, rounding the console to the control panel. "You are dismissed."

You muttered an affirmation and left the room towards the commons, but stopped when Fel called for you. Turning towards him, he slowed his approach and nodded respectfully to you.

"If I could walk you to wherever you're going?" He offered and you gave him a suspicious, yet amused, smile in question. "The General and Colonel will be arguing for the next few hours over troop placement and supply routes. Even a few minutes away would ease my mind."

You nodded and offered your arm out to him and he smiled at you, taking it and leading you back to your closet in the maintenance corridor. When you opened the door and entered your room, you found Tahiri sprawled on your bed, reading her datapad. Her eyebrows shot up at your guest.

"Jag?" It was more of a statement. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Likewise, Tahiri." His tone seemed cautious, his stance stiff.

"Why does everyone I know know each other?" You retorted, lifting your hand from Fel's arm and plucking the datapad from Tahiri's grasp. She snorted at you and sat up, her signature smile on her face. From the corner of your eye, you saw Fel relax a bit.

"The rest of the galaxy is different than the Maw." She teased and you scrunched your nose at her.

"Tell me about it. Clothes are a requirement. How do you survive on arid worlds?"

That got a choked laugh from Fel and you both looked at him.

"I," He seemed to stumble for words. "Apologies. I'll leave you two alone. I have a meeting to get back to."

"Give Whitsun my love." Tahiri said dryly.

"Make sure no one breaks anything else?" You offered. "I'm about to sleep again and won't be available for another two days."

He blinked at the both of you and sighed. "I'll try." He turned and exited the room and gave a very formal dismissal.

You turned to Tahiri. "Dathomir?"

She groaned, falling back onto your mattress, the look on your face a raised eyebrow, narrowed eyes, and a tilted mouth.

"It was a sabotage mission against the Resistance that went well and we hit it off," You raised your eyebrows. "Not like that. We got along well, like you and me. But he got promoted and he's a stickler for the rules. Most of the time," She looked thoughtfully up at you. "It's strange he's taken an interest in you, though. Especially on a mission like this."

"Really?" You tilted your head.

"You must've left an impression," She shrugged. "Like the one your face made with the floor." She flashed you a tooth-filled grin, and you smothered her face with your pillow.

After Tahiri left, you slipped into a nice slumber, dreaming about a valley surrounded by tall, black mountains. Deep, red gashes were cut on the lowest parts and were hot to the touch, burning your finger. You nursed it in your mouth, and as you walked the arid valley, you felt something watching you. Trying to find whatever it was bore no fruit, and you felt isolated in this trapped valley, no water to be found.

Dark clouds filled the sky, a streak of white like a scar through the middle of the thunderheads, and warm rain flooded the valley. With nowhere to run, you ended up sinking into a void.


	4. Pockmarks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burned into your face.
> 
> Burned into your mind.
> 
> Etched upon your soul.
> 
> Like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh sorry for the double upload
> 
> creative juices were flowing
> 
> also, i'm trying to edit previous chapters before i submit a new one, so make sure to look back at the subtle changes
> 
> i may slow down a bit tomorrow, once i've had time to think

The face sneering back at you was your own as you tried to glare the burn marks on your face away. It seemed like grease at first, maybe, but after you washed your face on day five, the marks stayed. After some rummaging, you found a box of thumb-sized bacta-patches and smothered your face with kolto before applying each one. When it was done, you had eight patches blatantly on your face and neck, and you were bemused to think that you looked like an embarrassed teenager with horrible acne.

Tahiri wasn't in the mess that morning, and you grabbed a satchel-full of nutrient bars and electrolyte drink before you sat down and composed a communique to General Hux. It was mostly an apology that another day was to be added on, since the damage-report was incomplete and re-wiring needed to be done to install the surveillance cams according to what the schematics demanded. A frown tugged at your lips, thinking about how to tackle the task. If you had a spare pair of hands, it wouldn't take the extra day, but your nervousness refused to let you ask for someone.

Having your skull in place was a priority.

Message sent, and you made a brisk walk to the interrogation sector to finish your work. The gurney you'd used previously had been replaced and the door was open. Odd, considering you'd shut and locked it with a maintenance security subroutine. Had the General come to confront you about yesterday's incident? The familiar claws of anxiety scratched at your esophagus as you slowly crossed the doorway.

General Hux hadn't come to chastise you.

Kylo Ren stood where the interrogation cot would be, his back towards you, hands clasped together against the small of his back.

Dead. You were dead. This was it. You had slighted him. He'd kill you and then destroy your work in the process. No one would know. Except maybe Tahiri. She was smart like that. She'd invite Fel and your few other friends for a silent vigil as she read your private journal aloud and teased your memory about how groups of people could get so well-on together. Then she'd cry a little, burn the journal, get married to Fel, have children, those children would have children, and she'd tell them about the one time you were so tired you collapsed outside the mess hall.

During this speeder wreck lead of a thought, you had let out a deflated squeak that sounded like a balloon letting out air and Ren's head twitched slightly, and then you turned around to face you.

Your brain did a complete crash, fuzzy grey-screen and all, and you were sure it showed on your face.

"Technician." He addressed you, his mechanical voice jump starting your brain with fear and survival as it churned out the most appropriate response to send to your vocal chords.

"I, uh, Commander?" Smooth, you were dead. "I wasn't expecting you, sir."

"I am aware," He said, crossing the room towards you. Your heart stopped as you felt yourself die in his presence. Kylo Ren was here to kill you for talking back. You hadn't been aware you had been talking back. Thinking over the conversation from the day before, you realized you had been too forthcoming, to chummy. It was inappropriate. Dead. You were dead. "Interesting."

You swallowed a lump in your throat as he paused just a pace-and-a-half away from you. "Sir?"

"I can see the thoughts spinning behind your eyes," His voice sounded thoughtful. "But I cannot hear them."

"I, uh," What was that supposed to mean? Maybe he couldn't read minds? Or maybe with certain people? "I'm sorry?"

He didn't respond, only stared at you behind the darkened visor that screamed doom in the back of your mind. Your hands were clammy, your heart pounding in your chest, sweat threatening to form rivulets down your forehead. Then he skirted past you like the wind and it was as if he was never there.

You were chilled to the bone, breathing heavily as your heart threatened to jettison from your chest and onto the floor. Taking a swallow and a deep breath, you steadied yourself and got to work removing durasteel walls to re-wire the correct areas for the surveillance cams.

The caf and stims went untouched for eight hours and you finished with the task surprisingly early. But instead of reveling in the work, you felt daunted, in danger. You pulled the interrogation cot in and installed it, making quick work of the process and then calibrating it. Six hours of that, and you trudged back to your closet, sending a message to the General that he should disregard your previous communique and the job was done.

You messaged Tahiri, and within an hour she had showed up to your room, two mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Her face went from pleasant to worried as she saw you wrapped around your pillow, face stark white covered in sweat.

"What happened?" Your eyes gazed up at her and she crossed the room, handing you a mug. After you sipped and felt warmth returning to your body--both from the beverage and the woman's caring presence--you described your day, how terrified you'd been for most of it.

"Maybe talk to the General about it?" Your eyes went wide in disbelief and she brought up a hand in a disarming gesture. "Hear me out," You nodded, sipping from the mug. "Hux keeps Ren on a leash. A tight one, despite the tension between them. If Ren has his sights on you, it can't be good. Hux can keep him away."

You couldn't respond. The terror of having to talk with Hux only added to the stress of the day.

"I can go with you?" She suggested. When you didn't respond, she continued. "I know it might look bad, but I can help you talk to him." You bobbed your head slightly and she had you in a hug, being careful not to spill either drink.

"I thought he was gonna kill me," You managed to say. "And he didn't. That feels more dangerous."

She hummed thoughtfully and let you go. "I'll crash here tonight," You started to protest and she held up a hand. "No, I insist. Just to make sure you're safe."

You sighed into your mug. "Thanks, 'Hiri. I really don't deserve your kindness."

Her lack of response caused you to look up and catching her gaze distant.

"No, I don't deserve you as a friend." She said quietly, then crossed to the couch and turned her back to you.

The statement tugged at you as you tried to pick it apart, but you were too worn out to really get the meaning behind it, if there was one. You both had your quirks, and Tahiri's was being cryptic as kriff occasionally. A yawn escaped you as you curled under the plethora of blankets--mindfully tossing one, plus a pillow, toward the blonde--and dozed off.

You stood on a tundra, white and smooth. The sky was alight with an aurora, blotting out the darkness of the night. Ahead of you, a dark figure loomed, tall and resolute. You stared for a long time, marveling at how the light from the colors never affected the figure. It slowly looked back, darkness incarnate sending fear up your spine, and then through your whole body. Black swallowed the snow, the sky, the light of the aurora until only you and the darkness remained, terror suffocating you.

In the depth of the void, you could hear its mind. A lonely echo. Alone, alone, alone...


	5. Cryptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were going to murder your best friend. More forewarning might have been nice.
> 
> And with so many eyes on you, the panic wasn't subsiding any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaHHH thank you all so much for the hits and kudos and comments! this piece alone has nearly SIX TIMES as much attention than anything i have ever done in my life and i'm so overwhelmed right now!
> 
> i'm not sure how much longer i'll be doing daily updates, but here, have some tension
> 
> *throws glitter*
> 
> also, i didn't proof this, but i fixed some things in chap one. this is constantly in beta, and i'm constantly editing. sorry for the inconvenience.

Fate, as it were, was unkind and cruel. You woke to the sound of a priority message on your datapad and the sight of Tahiri missing from the couch. A folded piece of flimsi sat atop of the blanket and pillow neatly stacked on the couch where she had slept before. Struggling out of bed, your body feeling old and feeble, you opened the datapad as you crossed over to the couch to read the note.

In her curvy shorthand, the explanation of her absence was coded, and a frown tugged at your lips. Intelligence officers and their penchant for encryption was not how you wanted to start your day, and a sigh echoed through the room as you searched for the pen she used and began to decipher it. As you did so, you selected the priority message--the sender was General Hux.

Your blood froze. A voice in your mind screamed trap, death, demotion. The more reasonable part assured you it was probably a recognition message. As you opened it, the former voice seemed to be the correct one as General Hux had summoned you to meet with him. Pen in hand, you wondered how much of the ink it would take to give you poisoning and send you to the medbay.

Scrunching your nose at the thought of being in the medbay forced you to continue to decode Tahiri's note. She had been pulled for a high priority comm evaluation. Another sigh echoed through the room as you collapsed forward into the couch, burying your face into the cushions and letting out a distressed cry.

It took a half-an-hour to dress, hurry to the mess for something quick to eat, and arrive at the bridge. A timid step in and a once-over had you briskly walking across the aisle towards the side of the room where the viewport gazed ominously over the planet below. The General stood not far off, hunched over a display and glaring daggers at Commander Ren. Lieutenant-Commander Fel stood just behind the dark menace, his posture impeccable and arms clasped behind him.

Fel was the first to notice your approach and shot you a worried glance before Hux's attention was turned to you, as well. Then the empty, helmeted gaze of Kylo Ren fell onto you and you nearly tripped over your feet from the pinpoint fear in your skull. The pace that had propelled you forward slowed a margin and your eyes snapped to the General, using his presence as a goal and distraction from Ren's empty stare.

"Technician, timely, as always," Hux said, straitening at your approach. "I have your new work assignment."

"Sir?" You asked before you could stop yourself, your brow furrowing.

"I've looked over your file and I am impressed," He said, arms folding behind him. "A feat not easily accomplished, especially in the amount of time I was made aware of your presence."

You swallowed, trying to inflate your throat that seemed to have closed on its own at the threatening praise. Head bobbing curtly and politely, you waited for him to continue.

"One of the Lieutenants from Intelligence forwarded a report from Officer Veila, one that specifically requested your assistance in decrypting Resistance orders."

If Fel's brows could narrow more in concern, you were sure they would have as he looked at you. You resisted scrunching your face at Tahiri's sudden involvement, wondering if this incident was the reason behind her cryptic comment the night before.

"Ah, forgive me, General, sir," You spoke, looking up at him. "But wouldn't this be better suited for someone in Intel? Such as Officer Veila?"

He looked slightly amused at the query, handing you a set of datachips and accompanying datapad. "Of course. Consider this a test of your competence."

"General, is this necessary?" Fel spoke up and your eyes turned to him. "I realize she's exceptional in repairing and improving damaged or obsolete equipment..." He trailed off as Hux held up a hand to silence him.

"I have read her profile and have confidence she won't falter at this task."

A foreign feeling snaked up into your anxiety, something you couldn't place. You knew it, but you couldn't place it. Here was the General Hux--although shaken and marred by a disastrous military failure--placing his trust in you to do something that he only relied on other people for. Warmth heated your stomach and the back of your head. Embarrassment? No, that wasn't it. Shame? No.

You took the assignment and bobbed your head, not meeting his gaze as you found an empty console below to check into. Plugging one chip into the console and the other into the datapad, you started the sequence up and studied the encryption flying past on the screen. It wasn't too hard to decipher and you pulled the stylus from the datapad and started to jot down a translation.

A few of your thoughts idled; parts on cursing Tahiri for putting you in this position, parts on the constant awareness that the Commander was no doubt watching you again, but a constant part on the words that the General had spoken. His tone seemed almost certain that you'd get this job done. Your brain cycled through that part, and the warmth returned. It wasn't anger. What was it?

Confidence. Pride. An array of positive feelings you hadn't felt since...

Your memory couldn't produce a time in recent years.

You were done with the translation in about fifteen minutes, give or take. Ejecting the drive from the console and putting everything back together, you stood and made your way back to the pedway where the trio--now joined with Colonel Whitsun--stood, all of them discussing something in a hushed tone. You were dismayed to find that, yes, the Commander had not let his gaze drift from you.

Fel's head perked up at your approach, and the General and Colonel's followed suit.

"Is there an issue, technician?" Hux asked, his stance straight once more. Like a fresh plank, your mind supplied. Brow furrowed, you shook your head. "You have a report?"

"Yes, sir," You handed him the datapad and accompanying chips. "It's deciphered. I included a copy in First Order encryption, as well."

Whitsun gave a low whistle and Fel's eyebrows raised a fraction. "Are you sure we shouldn't use clones, General? We could use her mental capabilities for the troopers." The horror on your face must have shown as Hux sent him a glare to silence him and end that topic of conversation.

After a tense moment, Hux turned back to you. "Very good, technician. You'll be sent ground side to assist the Intelligence team after you've been evaluated for fieldwork."

Your 'nerf-in-floodlights' look expanded over your face as you paled. He was sending you ground-side? No, no that was no good! You'd die! Even before you could make it down there, if you made it out of the eval room! They'd find you not physically competent and you'd be demoted and executed!

"Is that wise, sir?" That was Fel, no doubt trying to save your pathetic soul from a fate worse than janitorial duty. "Or necessary?"

"We've hit a dead end with the encryption at the outpost we've captured. We're under-manned," Hux turned on Fel. "Unless you have a better suggestion, she'll be sent planet-side to assist the team down there in retrieving information from the defunct servers."

"You're extracting information from destroyed processors?" Ah, there was your mouth, rambling with curiosity. You managed a quick 'sir' before he turned back to you.

"The team down there is specialized in such things. There have been," He paused, testing the next word in his mouth. "Complications."

Whitsun snorted, circling around the projector to look at you fully. "What he means is that he's grasping for any advantage since his mistake at Starkiller."

You paled as Hux's neck and face went red and he spun on the man, sharp words already splitting the blondes ears. A gaze at Fel as you stood awkwardly as the exchange between the men escalated showed he wasn't in a position to save you from this, and you chanced a glance at Kylo Ren, who still hadn't removed his ominous visored gaze from you since he was aware of your presence. Eyes snapped forward back onto the two bickering, spiteful men ahead of you and you pursed your lips.

How had you ended up in this situation?

Whitsun spun from Hux, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as one would do to a child or spouse who was acting irrationally. He strode down the pedway and exited the bridge through the west facing doors. Hux's nose flared with anger, a break in his carefully constructed mask as he regarded you again, remembering that you were, in fact, still there.

In fact, he began to consider you gravely and you felt pressure on the ever-present fear on the back of your neck.

"I realize your medical profile shows negative signs to tests of mandatory force-sensitivity," He frowned at the thought and you felt your insides clench. "I wonder if another test is warranted?"

"General, with all due respect, I don't believe she is. She's shown no signs, obvious or otherwise." Fel interjected.

"And you would be an expert in that particular subject, Lieutenant?" Hux's words were icy and you watch Fel's ears redden. Curiosity picked at you, but here wasn't the place to ask.

"She isn't." Ren's modulated voice made you jump.

"You're certain, Ren?" Hux's gaze fixed on the black-garbed man.

"Yes." He straightened and removed himself from the conversation and then the room, through the east door. Like before, it was as if he had never been there. Tension in your body released through deflated shoulders and a heavy breath out.

When you looked up at Hux again, he had a semblance of a restrained smirk on his face.

"Report to the evaluation wing first thing this evening." You bobbed your head and he dismissed you.

Leaving couldn't have been faster, as you exited the way you came, briskly walking back towards the commons. Except for the fact Kylo Ren blocked your path before you could make it to the turbolift.

You stood straight, squaring your shoulders. Tahiri couldn't be here for you, to give support. You had yourself and you needed to be able to handle this. And if you couldn't, well, her grandchildren would have fun stories to share of you.

"You're a puzzling person," He said, taking a slow step forward, and your fingers clenched into your palms, fear snaking upwards and outwards and begging you to flee. "Not a force-sensitive, but able to block out mental probes. Are you even aware you're doing so?" His voice grew dangerous.

"No, sir," You swallowed roughly, a scream wanting to escape you. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

His helmet tilted at the statement as you pondered your words. "Wrong?" The dangerous tone seemed to have faded into something...something else. Your brain couldn't process it through the haze of absolute terror.

"You," Another rough swallow. "You wouldn't be approaching me unless I did something wrong. You wouldn't be keeping a close watch on me unless you thought I was incompetent," You stopped your tumbling words before finishing with. "You terrify me."

A buzzing sound, like a soft explosion, came from his vocalizer, and you realized he'd snorted. "So very puzzling," Another step, then another, and you kept yourself planted through sheer willpower. "No force abilities to speak of, but you manage to do complicated tasks with ease," He towered over you now, less than a hand's breadth away from you, looking down. "The only indication of how you could be what you are is the mental profile--the irregular brain patterns." Your heart sank.

"Yes, I've read the entire report," He leaned in close, so close you could once more hear the buzzing of his vocalizer. "Would you like to hear a secret?" You swallowed, hard, and took a shaky breath in, hoping you'd die before this situation could escalate. His hand raised up to your face and fingertips splayed just millimeters from your forehead, and you watched with wide eyes. "I have been constantly trying to delve into your mind since the day in the war room. When that failed, I tried to cause you bodily harm. Even now, I try to break the impenetrable null that is your mind while trying to exert pressure to force your body to the ground."

His voice had taken a terrifying, feral tone; growling and grating and you hoped, wished that someone's blaster would just malfunction and catch you in the back of the head, killing you instantly. Death, you were wishing for death, because this situation was so uncomfortable and you wanted to die by anyone's hands but his.

"You terrify me." His tone was much quieter now and took you by surprise. And once again, he passed by you as if he was never there.

Heart pounding, sweat chilling your body to the muscle, and mind a flurry of questions with no forthcoming answers, you stood in the corridor--meters from the turbolift.

"Huh." Was the weak whisper that escaped your lips.


	6. An Art of Truth and Half-Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow melts, becomes water.
> 
> Water accumulates, becomes rivers.
> 
> Rivers flow and join, lakes and oceans manifest.
> 
> The sun dries it all, lake beds and ocean floors exposed.
> 
> Vapor rises, clouds form.
> 
> Clouds chill and become heavy.
> 
> Snow falls.
> 
> It is all connected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had part of this written up then left town, came back, attempted a failed nap, then threw a tomato at the keyboard to finish it up
> 
> did no proofing on previous chapters today
> 
> also saw that my chapters weren't being published the day i uploaded them??????
> 
> anyway, enjoy your post-read speculation <3

Threat. Kylo Ren saw you as a threat.

The realization hit you hard as the hand holding the spoon with your oatmeal dropped and clanged into the bowl below, heads turning at the sudden noise. No, no, no, this wasn't good. If you were dead before, you were worse off now. This had to be fixed.

After things were finished on Su Urta.

Because, guess what? You miraculously passed the evaluation from the night before (yay!) and were being shipped down with a dispatch of troopers and officers in the next two hours (double yay!).

Whatever was keeping you alive and going had better get you through this mission and the inevitable confrontation you desperately needed to have with the Commander, because you needed to let him know you weren't a threat. To anyone. Ever. You were so pathetic, at age ten you tripped over a very avoidable chair and managed to mangle your leg. And apologize to said chair.

Because you were the most fragile thing in the known Universe, regardless of the weird brain condition you had.

Which, you thought bemused, had caused you practically no harsh consequences in your short life so far. Kind of. If you disregarded all the incidents from age twelve on. Which weren't really extreme, but to anyone else who met the quota on sanity, might have seemed that way.

There was, undoubtedly, something wrong with your very chemical make up and neural synapses that definitely caused you to react the way you did. The doctors you saw early in your life had no explanation and were baffled when no amount of medication or therapy--couch bound and otherwise--seemed to effect you. It just was what it was. And you weren't really harming anyone but yourself, and getting away within an inch of your life, so they just let it be.

This condition had made you a target of the First Order's most dangerous soldier and you really, really needed to set things straight.

"Do your eyes always do that?" A familiar, low voice broke you from your reverie as Fel slid into the table, seated across from you.

"Sir?" His expression was concerned, curious, and amused--the same kind Tahiri showed when you were having an episode.

"Where they go wide when you feel like you're in danger? Or are in danger?" He was watching you carefully and you swallowed your nerves, gazing up at the scar above his brow again.

"I, yes," You responded, lips thinning to a tight line. "Tahiri says whenever I follow a train of thought that has me spiraling downward into panic, my eyes go wide and they start to resemble a 'does not compute' screen."

Fel snorted, a kind smirk on his face. "It does sort of look like that," You smiled, despite yourself. "Are you okay?"

His concern was so genuine and warm that your neck heated up, unused to the affection outside of Tahiri or your other friends. "Would you believe me if I said sure?"

The smirk turned to a smile of understanding and you fished the spoon from the bowl. Your nose scrunched to find the handle covered in oatmeal, and you used your fingers to squeeze it back into the bowl.

"I'll be heading planet side with your transport," Your eyes snapped to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "My presence has been requested for tactical ground side analysis."

Brows now furrowed in confusion, you asked, "Are things that bad on Su Urta?"

"It's...complicated," Fel's lips pursed into a line before he continued, idly tapping his fingers against the table. "There's been some internal squabbling between First Order command and the Knights."

"Infighting?" The word was a whisper. You'd known there was stress within the ranks, but hearing it from someone who had direct access to such things sent a chill up your spine. "But why ask for you, sir? Aren't you better equipped to deal with things up here?"

"They're hoping my suggestions will tilt the balance," When you didn't respond, he looked up, confusion still set on your face. "My family's been loyal to the Empire since it was founded. I am," He paused, thinking of the right word. "Acquainted with many in the Order, and those who support the Order's actions. The two parties will be looking for me to support their side and oppose the other."

"That's," You chewed on your spoon. "Very political. How do you even make that decision?"

"Usually, you have to before you arrive," He folded the napkin into the thirds and bent the edges inward. "But make sure neither side gets wind that you've made the decision. A clear head can usually set things straight. But this time? It's more of a power struggle. My decision might not even matter."

You pursed your lips, unsure what to say other than, "I'm sorry." He smiled kindly up at you, looking weary.

"We can talk more on the transport. I have to run checks before take off." You nodded as he stood and left. Your thoughts became lost in your oatmeal until there was none left.

Packing was to be kept to a minimum. A spare change of underclothes and uniform and necessary equipment you'd need on the surface. You hadn't ridden a shuttle since you were first employed with the Order, and you feared maybe motion sickness would be your arch-enemy on this trip. The Lieutenant-Commander seemed to be your knight in First Order black as he managed to get you a seat next to him near the front of the shuttle. Away from the troopers and other officers crammed in the back.

A quiet exchange about the Su Urta locale and a well placed jab towards Tahiri (more or less, several, but she'd never know) and you were disembarking the ship and on solid ground. Ahead of you both were two dark swathed figures--varying extremely in height--and Tahiri herself, looking pensive.

The shorter of the two figures approached you, face hidden behind an apparatus as strange as Kylo Ren's, and stopped in front on Fel.

"Lieutenant-Commander," A woman's voice, not changed by a vocalizer but rather filtered through a helmet-mic. "We are relieved at your timely arrival."

"I would hope so." His tone was strange. Not so much much challenging as it was authoritative.

"This way." She gestured towards her companion and the three of them trotted off, nary a backwards glance.

"Hey." Tahiri said cautiously, her body language that of a best friend who thought they'd be yelled at.

You shrugged and approached her. "More forewarning would have been nice." An olive branch and she visibly relaxed.

"I left a note." She rebutted, and you rolled your eyes.

"You actually expected my sleep-addled mind to figure out the meaning behind it?" You prodded her in the rib and she flinched back, rubbing it defensively.

"Aren't you supposed to be super smart?" A grin threatened to spread across her face and you rolled your eyes again, then leveled them on her. She responded by ushering you to a smoked out building, still reeking of prior events. Several levels down and six rooms passed later, you found yourself in a server room that looked more like the remains of a blown out circuit board than a once functioning data-array.

"Who were those two people that the Lieutenant followed?" You asked idly as you began to dig around in the first eviscerated CPU. There were three other technicians and code jockeys, respectively, in the room, but they were too busy to pay you and Tahiri mind.

"Kylo Ren's knights. I think Breha and Caedus. They're a powerful team," She was knelt down next to you, gnawing on a piece of wire she'd pulled from your pocket while holding your tools. "Cleared out enemy command in a matter of minutes, and then some."

Nose scrunching, you pulled out a particularly indecent glob of melted wiring from a burned out circuit board and replaced the wiring. Holding out your hand, she placed a small energy-cell in it and you tied it all together. Within seconds, the server you sat at booted up with a sputter.

"You're a God of Technology, you know that?" Tahiri smirked, standing to open one of the access panels.

"Too bad it doesn't get me points in avoiding the bizarre and supernatural."

Silence as she removed several hard drives, still amazingly intact.

"Did you talk to the General about your situation?"

A heavy sigh through your nose had her looking at you with narrowed eyes. "I was thinking about dealing with the bantha at the horns."

"That's suicide." A fact, a statement, not exclaimed.

"He cornered me last night."

"Are you okay?" She knelt to make it look like she was taking a tool from your belt, but her hand was on your shoulder and she was looking you in the eye.

"I think he thinks I'm a threat to him." You admitted quietly.

"That doesn't make any sense. How?" She murmured to you, careful not to catch her superior's attention.

"He said something about not being able to get into my head and not being able to hurt me." Your brows furrowed and she stood, a screwdriver in hand to pry out damaged circuitry for you to examine later.

"Talk to the General. Tell him everything," She looked down at you. "I mean it. You're way over your head trying to deal with this issue straight on." She went quiet and focused on her work, and you did the same.

One twelve hour shift later, Tahiri dragged you to an empty building where she had set up two cots. She ruffled your hair as you tried to tell her she didn't need to go out of her way like this, and then plopped down at one, feigning sleep by an obnoxious snore. You retaliated by dropping on top of her and you both dissolved into a fit of giggles more suitable for teenage girls than officers.

After idle chatter about really anything, you'd both curled up on your respective cots and slept, despite the blaster fire in the distance.

The warrior had left the bard on a personal quest, and on his way met three old friends: a thief, a spy, and a warrior monk. The spy spoke of allies not far from where they camped, the kind who could save a village without burning it to the ground. The thief--tired of stealing for people who did not care--wanted to find these people, but the warrior monk would not have it. The spy and the monk fought, and a fierce blow crippled the monk.

The warrior and spy turned from the monk, hand in hand, and headed for their new allies. The thief spared the monk one last glance, a single tear dropping to the dirt, before falling in step behind her friends.

The monk roared and sank further into the depths, being crushed by the power he craved.


	7. Symbolism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a list of places you wanted to visit, Su Urta has been aggressively crossed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the day off. was playing swtor all day yesterday.
> 
> here, have some confusing bullshit
> 
> proofed chap 1 again, like the anal retentive piece of shit i am

Breha Ren scared the wits out of you.

She was barely over a meter-and-a-half in height, but seeing her fly across the battlefield--Caedus not far behind--reminded you that force users were a terrifying force, despite their size.

Oh, right. The encampment was under attack.

The Resistance came from the dark woods of the north instead of the forest to the east and had captured you and several others. You weren't a fighter. Sure, you could hold a pistol and lay down a sloppy cover-fire, but outside of that, you were usually hiding from blaster bolts that threatened to end you in some painful way. An immediate surrender after two brown-suited soldiers cornered you may have saved your life.

Then the Order retaliated and managed to distract your captors enough for the group to scramble together an escape.

Except you were slow, sloppy, and very untrained. A blaster was leveled at your chest as you froze mid-run, eyes the size of saucers, staring in terror at your to-be executioner. Time froze as the eyes behind a tinted visor narrowed and a finger tensed on the trigger.

A distorted yell and impact later, you were sprawled underneath something and hearing a startled call and a blaster shorting out. And the unmistakable sound of plasma fizzling far too close to you.

Gazing up, you found Breha knelt over you, her lightsaber flickering dangerously, arcs of plasma licking the main blade. Your assailant had stumbled back, blaster dropped, as he retreated.

"Stay down." She said to you, as she performed a blocking maneuver and deflected a heavy volley of blasterfire. Then, holding out her hand, the second barrage halted and turned on their points of origin. Several cries of pain echoed through the air.

Her hidden face looked down to you as she put her finger to the side of her helmet, no doubt reporting in. "Stay here until reinforcements arrive." She ordered. You nodded and stayed sprawled face first in the dirt.

It seemed like a millennia after she left to pursue the enemy when the reinforcements came in the form of the Lieutenant-Commander and, surprisingly, Tahiri. They both helped you up as several troopers secured the area. Tahiri checked you over thoroughly, and when she was convinced you didn't have any serious injuries, led you to a more secure part of the battlefield.

"You gave us a scare." She said, sitting you down and cleaning off a cut on your face. A nurse came over and helped attend to the minor lacerations you'd received.

"Us?" You inquired, a bit out of it. You'd survived the firefight, somehow, and replaying the events in your mind, you felt a bit numb.

"Jag nearly ran out on his own to save your sorry hide." She looked over to the man who had been helping one of your fellows onto a cot.

"Sorry." You murmured, looking down at scuffed pants. You'd need to change before your commanding officer saw you in such a state.

Two hands grabbed your face and forced you to look up, a fierce pair of eyes staring into yours. "This isn't your fault."

You blinked quickly at her, suddenly aware that tears were forming in the corners of your eyes. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to your forehead before pulling you into the tightest hug she had ever given you. A disgusting sniff later, and your face was buried into her shoulder.

Trauma. This was battle trauma. You had almost actually died. A long, muffled sob escaped into her fatigues and she rubbed the upper part of your back until it had stopped, along with the tears. Pulling back, she looked at you.

"You're okay," She nodded at you. "Okay?" You nodded back as she turned her head towards Fel, who had been watching the exchange. "You could come over and say 'hi', Jag." Her tone was a broken accusation.

He looked you over once he was close enough, and then put a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry we couldn't be there sooner. I'm glad you're okay." You nodded, wiping drying tears with your sleeve. A change of uniform was needed, indeed.

"They're going to debrief you," Tahiri added, looking pensive. "Just explain events for them as shortly as you can, okay?" Another nod. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Licking your lips, you said, "Breha saved me?" It was a confused question, one that caused a quick glance between Tahiri and Fel. Her face was set, but his turned into a mirror of her pensiveness just a moment before.

"I need to make a report." He said, and with that he was gone.

"Did I say something wrong?" You asked, concern set on your brow.

"No," Tahiri's gaze was stuck on the direction Fel had left. "Things are complicated," Before you could ask about what she meant, her eyes fell on you again. "You need to rest." She pointed to a cot not far from where you sat. You frowned at her, and she leveled her eyes on you, causing you to sigh in defeat. She ruffled your hair before leaving you.

Sleep didn't come easily, the eyes of the soldier haunting you. During one of your tosses, you became aware that someone was watching you from the darkness of the prefab. Looking over, you felt your stomach clench as Breha's intimidating form stepped from the shadows.

Swallowing at her approach, you sat up and clenched the cotton-sheet tangled around you.

"You're interesting," She said, standing at the edge of he cot. "And you have promise," You gave a choked noise, knuckles turning white, and she held her hand up to silence you. "To the average person, you're just some strange woman with a remarkable talent," She crossed to be beside you, looking at you at eye level through her helmet. "To those of us who can use and sense the force freely and openly, you're a strange enigma."

"I don't understand." You breathed, voice failing you. Her gaze did not falter.

"The force is around and in us, giving life and directing the path," She explained. "A force-sensitive can sense others of their kind through it, as well as other living beings. It's called an aura, and all living things have one," Her head tilted a margin. "Yet, here you are. A void in the force."

Your eyes widened and face sunk in shock and confusion. Were you not alive? You were sure you were alive. Several panicked thoughts flashed through your mind as your heart rate picked up in terror.

"Don't worry, you're alive. But you are an enigma," She slowly brought a finger up and to your head. "You're unconsciously projecting a field that annuls force energy. It's concentrated in your head, but not as much as it is the rest of your body."

"What?" It was so confusing, but her words made sense, in a way. Even though you had no idea what she was talking about.

Her hand pulled away and she turned her back to you. "In my youth, I was assigned to eliminate a sect of Imperial extremists. They used a reptile that was able to project bubbles that cancelled the force as a self-defense against their force-sensitve natural predator," She turned a bit towards you. "It's very much the same thing that makes you interesting."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She came close, leaning close towards you and you sank back a bit. "Because I know Kylo knows about you," Ice crawled up your spine and your skin paled. "I feel his frustration, and although it is unwarranted, it grows with his confusion as to what you are. He cannot harm you through the force directly, but can physically maul you if you are not careful."

"What," You swallowed your fear. "What should I do?"

Breha leaned back from you. "I will speak with him. Do not anger him."

You wanted to protest that such a thing was an impossibility! The man was volatile, and you'd seen what destruction his rampages wrought! As poetic as you were, not making him mad about just your existence was something you couldn't do! The only thing that could make this entire situation avoidable is if you disappeared!

"How?"

She tilted her head again, a silent question to your query.

"How do I do that? He's everywhere I am."

A hum behind her mask as she crossed her arms over her chest, then she abruptly dropped them to her side, as if she realized she wasn't supposed to use the action. "A good question. One you will need to figure out on your own," You opened your mouth to protest again, but she shook her head. "Use what I have told you. He cannot hurt you with the force. No force user can."

"And what if he decides that saber of his is more effective?"

"He'd need a good reason to pull it on an officer, regardless of what you think of him," She said, turning from you to leave. "And if that's the case, just be sure to stay out of striking range." Then she was gone.

You squawked in frustration, then buried your face in your pillow, hoping to suffocate.

_This was a dream, you realized, as four dark eyes peered at you from nothing. They blinked, the feeling of curiosity towards you. Then you were back in the valley with the black mountains. Except the valley was no longer arid--it resembled the snow covered plain with the aurora. Looking up, the aurora burned red against a blue sky and you frowned._

_A noise to you left and you saw a dark figure looking up to the aurora. Squinting, you realized it was Breha._

_"Huh." You said, and she slowly turned her head towards you, giving a shrug. Her gaze was then behind you and she seemed startled. Turning around, you found the looming shadow looking up to the sky as well, but it wasn't looking at the aurora. Looking up again, the aurora had turned into four, red eyes, blinking down at the three of you._

_"I don't..." You murmured and then your attention snapped to something at your immediate side. Looking over, the shadow was now looming over you, confused, angry, the echo of loneliness pressing onto you. You stumbled back with a scream._

_"Don't worry," Came Breha's voice from behind you. "It can't touch you."_

_"Is it because of the whole force thing you told me about?" You asked, straightening._

_"No." She seemed lost in thought, and even though you wanted to look back to her, your gaze was fixed on the figure._

_"Then what is it? Why can't it touch me?"_

_"It's not sure if it should."_

_That caused you to snap your head to her. "What? Why?"_

_She still looked to the red eyes in the sky, now framed with the dark clouds with the scar of white across them. "You burn of something...else."_

_"That doesn't make sense."_

_"Force things most often don't."_

_"Wait, are you actually in my head?"_

_"I think we're both dreaming," She looked to you. "I won't remember this, but you will," She looked up to the sky again. "Who do the clouds represent?"_

_"Are you seriously analyzing my dreams while in my dreams?" You asked, incredulous. That earned you a rich laugh from her._

_"I guess I am," She looked at you again. "The clouds remind me of Jag."_

_Pursing your lips, you looked up at the clouds. They did kind of seem like the Lieutenant-Commander._

_"This is such a weird dream. Are they always like this?" She asked, looking back to you. Her form was different, and you couldn't place why._

_"I once wrestled a trash can in order to win the barony of Khoria."_

_Another laugh. "Your dreams have an excellent writer."_

_"Are you one of those people who believe in symbolism in dreams?"_

_"Yeah. Sometimes to people like me, they tend to be less of dreams and more visions if anything."_

_You turned towards the shadow again. It kept an inch of distance between you as it loomed over you._

_"And this?"_

_"I'm here. I think it could be," She turned to you. "Do you know what an ysalamir is?"_

_"No."_

_She looked up to the sky. "They have four eyes, just like that." Her finger pointed to the sky, where the red eyes gazed down still, the blue sky darkening to purple._

_"Okay?"_

_"You may not be force-sensitive, but the force is definitely pulling strings where you're involved. Dreaming of an ysalamiri's eyes after I told you about the creature without much of a description..." She shrugged._

_"I guess that makes sense," You hummed. "Crazy-sounding, but it makes sense."_

_She smiled at you, teeth flashing._

_She had no helmet on. That's what was different. Dark eyes, dark hair. She was beautiful._

_"Nothing with the force is ever not crazy sounding."_

_The entire situation was so bizarre. You looked back at the eyes as the sky continued to darken to night, the clouds swirling slowly around the mountain tops. The shadow, circled you slowly, too, keeping its distance. This was all so weird._

_"Huh."_


	8. A Subtle Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A list, a droid, and more cryptic messages from your dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit thank you all so much for, like, following and reading
> 
> like
> 
> wow
> 
> holy shit
> 
> also, i've got a rough arc plotted. prepare for twists, turns, and maybe even matt. just sayin'.

Another week, another outpost surgically taken apart and information retrieved. You didn't check what was on the many data-drives Tahiri ended up carting out each day, but you were curious. So, you asked.

"Troop movements. Security codes. Hidden supply caches. The sort of thing the Order can use to flush out the enemy and take for themselves." You'd known her long enough to know what spitefulness sounded like in her voice.

"But isn't that a good thing?" She blinked for a moment, processing your question, before looking at you.

"Yeah, it is. I just have a personal qualm about it," She frowned and returned to pulling an arm's length hard drive from the server you'd just brought back from beyond. Your eyebrows shot up. "And this is the list the techs have been looking for so diligently for the last two weeks."

"What kind of list?" You stood, wiping fingers on a dirtied cloth sticking from your trousers.

"The kind that ousts all the people who are spies for the Resistance." She frowned at it, then gently placed it on the floor and began close up the server where the hard drive had come from.

"That's...big, 'Hiri. I mean, news and...list. Could there be that many people?" Getting a better look at the thing, you squatted down and tilted your head at it.

"It's really not that unheard of," She said with a short sigh. "The Empire had hundreds of Rebel spies in their ranks they never knew about. Same goes for the Republic. The Order. The Resistance. It's a bloody game we all play, with plenty of backstabbing."

You scrunched your nose at the thing, deciding it was best left to Tahiri's care. Sure, you were good and splicing and information retrieval, but not so much as to where said information should go.

Only a day later, you were summoned back to the Judgment because something had inevitably broke without your loving presence aboard. Fel and Tahiri saw you off. The trip up wasn't so bad, since you were one of only several people heading back up, meaning your anxiety didn't have to freak you due to too many people being around.

Once on board, you found your stomach sinking into your feet with the news of what had happened. Well, rumors of what had happened. The captain that led you to the disaster you were going to help fix wasn't very forthcoming.

Apparently, Kylo Ren and some guest of the Order had it off in one of the training rooms, and the entire place fell victim to a live-fire fight with lightsabers. Gashes--now cooled--lined the walls sporadically. A pipe hung from a broken support and leaked coolant into the room. Slices from a weapons that wasn't a lightsaber cut into the floor, ceiling, walls...

None of the exercise equipment was salvageable. Two other maintenance workers were dragging those out as you entered the room.

"You'll be having help, since this kind of thing doesn't normally happen, and the room needs to be fixed for crew morale," The captain explained, then pointed up towards one of the blown apart surveillance cams. "You'll be dealing with anything electrical while general maintenance repairs the aesthetic damage," He turned to you. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your schedule is cleared until completion. This is a priority task." You nodded and waited for him to be completely out of the room before getting a closer look at the cam.

"What the kriff?" You breathed. The rig had been damaged like someone had blown it up from the inside.

"What?" One of the maintenance workers called to you.

You knee-jerked as your panic spiked with the unforeseen confrontation. Putting on a pleasant face, you turned to the speaker. "This is mess."

"Yeah, no kidding," His accent was heavily accented in a deep city kind of way. "Kriffing force-users have no respect for anything."

You looked back at the cam, thinking of your experience with Breha and felt conflicted.

"The Commander did this?" You asked, loudly enough for them to hear.

The second person--a woman--laughed dryly. "It might've been worse if that broker hadn't knocked him flat on his backside."

"Broker?" You turned your head a bit, curiosity eating away at your anxiety.

"Some weird droid," The man said, throwing a bent piece of weight onto gurney. "Rumor is, the Commander knew him from his early days or something. Thing's creepy as kriff. Wears clothes and stuff, and has a visored masked that glows red."

"Ooh, the big, bad, boogey-droid's gonna getcha!" The woman mocked, waggling her fingers at her companion.

"Aw, can it. Don't you have work to do?""

The two started bickering as you thought about the story. It was the weirdest thing you'd ever head of, aside from all the weird stuff happening to you lately. As banter turned into playful hits, you started your work on the electrical.

Pulling wires, replacing destroyed circuits, and re-calibrating the main console for the room took up two days of your time. During the halfway point of day two, the droid made an appearance.

The group of you were silent as it entered, looking around the room like a predator seeking prey. It stood stock-still for an uncomfortably indecent amount of time before speaking.

"I apologize for the damage." The voice was low and reverberated on itself and rough and...just mechanically unpleasant. Before any of you could respond, it took one, long, red-tinted gaze at you, then was gone from the room.

"Stang, that was scary." One of your co-workers said, and the others agreed. You felt like you were about to get even more attention than usual.

_"Be wary of it." Breha told you in your dream. Today, you both sat in the ruins of a burned down village, still smoldering._

_"The droid?" You asked, picking at a piece of ruined roof._

_"It is not as it appears."_

_"Are you always so cryptic?"_

_She was silent for a moment. "Why a village?" She asked, but not to you. Silence stretched between the two of you as you watched a clouds flow in the blue sky not so far away. These were not the clouds that looked like the Lieutenant-Commander, but were just there._

_"You really can't remember being here?" You asked, looking at her for the first time since she appeared in this dream. She was dressed in a tan-tunic and her dark hair was braided down her back. The braid shook with the shake of her head._

_"I'd like to. Your dreams are fascinating," She hummed. "Much more than my own. Mine are only filled with regret and pain."_

_"That's so sad." You murmured forlornly, and she looked to you, her brows furrowed._

_"So genuine, you are," Her face softened with a kind smile, and you wished you could see it outside of your head. "It's unfair that so much misfortune is being thrust upon you."_

_After a moment, you said, "I was trying to figure out what this dream was about."_

_"You think it was that interesting?"_

_You shrugged. "I thought about that whole dream thing you told me about last time. Maybe my dreams can help you with whatever you're doing?" You suggested._

_"What makes you think I'm doing anything? Or need help with it?" Her face was suddenly that of the mask she wore and you shrugged again._

_"You're always doing things out in the field. And you're a force-user. Maybe my dreams will make more sense to you than me?"_

_The mask was gone and she was scrutinizing you. "You're so strange."_

_You grinned at her. "So I've heard." That earned you a tooth-filled grin._

_After a moment of thought, she asked, "Why a village?"_

_You hummed, scratching your chin. "There were people here. Not just villagers," A wavering not far off from where you sat, and she focused on it. "Two men. A warrior and a bard." And there they were, standing, flickering, familiar, but indistinguishable._

_"Did they do this?"_

_"Yeah, but I don't think it was their intent. They wanted to save it from," You trailed off, thinking. "They wanted to save it from itself, and it ended up burning to the ground."_

_Breha hummed and stood, striding over to them. "This one feels friendly, strong," She snorted. "Like Jag. You made him a warrior?"_

_"He seems like it, I guess? Who knows what my subconscious is up to?" You both smiled at each other, but then she focused her gaze on the second figure._

_"Authoritative, threatening...you gave him red hair? Hux is a bard?"_

_That made you laugh. "No idea. I think they were arguing when I had this dream."_

_She snorted. "Nothing new there."_

_"You seem to know him. The Lieutenant-Commander, I mean. 'Hiri calls him 'Jag', too."_

_She hummed, eyes still intent on the two men now taking their full, respective forms. "I knew them both when I was younger."_

_"Were they much different? I mean, from how they are now?"_

_The mask was back, as was her full body armor as she responded, still not taking her gaze from the dream version of Fel._

_"You're asking a lot of questions."_

_"Hey, you invited yourself in."_

_A snort. "True," She turned to you. "Have you figured out what you're going to do about Kylo?"_

_"No. I've lucked out. Haven't seen him since I got back."_

_She hummed. "Be careful. I think he'll be confronting you, again," She turned to you fully. "I have seen parts of your mind from here, and I know you get scared easily, but you really need to swallow it down. He may take it as an affront, but he needs to prioritize threats."_

_"You're setting me up to be killed, you know?" You stood, dusting the soot from your pants. "And you won't even know that you did."_

_"Indeed." She trailed off and once more looked at the rolling clouds in the distance._


	9. A Study In Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is an indescribable calm before a storm.
> 
> Rare is the calm that is short that berths a long and hard winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns*
> 
> hey finishing up this story arc to move on to the next~
> 
> sorry it took so long to write up and post. was thinking through how to do it right. and i'm lazy af
> 
> thanks once again for the hits and kudos and comments like omg guys tysm!!! <3

Days passed in a monotonous kind of haze. Things were calm. The Knights had been dispatched to finish clearing out the opposing forces on Su Urta and you were back to maintaining defunct sections of the Judgment. Tahiri was still planet side for a reason you weren't clear on, but that kind of thing was above your station, so you kept your head low and did what you did best.

Then there was the red gaze that bore down on you.

The droid broker that seemed to unease everyone as much as the Commander did. He stood uncomfortably still across the corridor from you, staring, and you had no idea what to make of it. Well, other than the fact that it was really making you wary and fidgety.

"The Commander wanted a thorough background check on you." He said as you started to rewire a redundant system to make it more efficient. You jumped a bit, hands clenching on the wires as you turned your head up to see him towering over you.

Your wide-eyed concern and shock from his words and proximity only made him edge nearer.

"I sifted through nearly three decades of family history, genealogy, and public records," He paused, kneeling down to be eye level with you, the red light of his visor causing your stomach to clench. "Backdoor information. You are insignificant in every way, except for your handicap."

You gulped audibly and pursed your lips, unable to say anything.

"I was about to make my inquiries to him when I decided to observe you face-to-face," His visored mask was now inches from your face. "Do you know what I saw?" The mechanical voice was bumpy and low and you paled at the question, knowing exactly what he meant. But how this droid could tell was beyond you, and he responded before you could. "I thought as much," Another pause, as if he was searching your face for answers and finding them. "Kylo Ren perceives you as a threat, but I have assured him you are not. He has taken my suggestion with hesitance, but he will leave you be."

You were stunned. This droid just did something you were too afraid to for no reason at all. There had to be a catch. Instead, he stood and walked away, leaving a hole where he once stood.

Falling to your backside, you leaned against the wall and tried to still your pounding heart. If the Order didn't kill you, the Universe definitely would.

Your dreams were still obscure, but Breha had stopped frequenting them. The shadow that you perceived as the Commander now kept an extended distance form you, but still watched, it's loneliness echoing on the wind. He seemed to disappear during a reenactment of a story Tahiri liked to tell--one of a dashing rogue and a princess and their family, traveling a far off ocean in search of tomorrow.

Work, sleep, work, sleep, the days melted into each other as they did before the Commander's party arrived. Few incidents occured that needed your attention. Things were starting to feel like normal.

Except Tahiri wasn't talking to you. Or looking at you. Or even acknowledging you.

She would sit with you at lunch and eat and not say a word. Five days this went on before you asked her about it.

"I'm not feeling well." Was all she said, and that was the last time you saw her in the mess.

Worry became your essence as you tried to find out what was wrong. You couldn't seem to run into her, like she was purposefully avoiding you, and her acquaintances in Intel were unhelpful, saying she didn't seem different, that she was acting normal. Something was wrong, and you had no way of finding out what.

It ate and ate and ate and you started to lose sleep trying to figure out if you had done something. If you had, you were certain she would've told you. Or at least, you hoped she would. You two were close as close could be. You dreams became vibrant and violent and stressful and you almost went to take some medicine for it when she came into your closet.

"Tahiri?" You said, grogginess in your voice as you stifled a yawn.

She wouldn't meet your gaze, not entirely. "Come with me."

"What?" You had to cover that yawn. "What's going on, 'Hiri? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Just," Her eyes shut, like your words had hit her as effectively as a whip. "Just come on." She gestured you to out of your hide-a-way.

You slipped on a pair of boots and a button-up utility jacket and followed her. She led you through the ship at a time when the majority were on down time. Lights were dim in several halls. Few personnel could be seen. A feeling of dread settled in your stomach as she turned the closed off hall for evacuation procedures. You started to speak up when she punched in a code and it opened, then stepped through, ushering you to follow her.

Footfalls seemed to echo after the door sealed behind you and you swore your heartbeat could be heard.

"Tahiri?" You asked cautiously, and she said nothing as she led you to an escape shuttle-pod that was opened, several gurneys with delicate hardware just outside it. "What's going on?"

She turned to you with a look you had never seen before. It aged her almost ten years and changed her into someone who had seen too much in her young life. "I'm leaving. I'm hoping you can come with."

You stared at her, dumbfounded. Glancing at the gurneys, you recognized several of the hard drives--the very same ones you had helped extract from Su Urta.

"You're," You trailed off, putting pieces together. "You're a spy."

A pained smile, an apology, and you shook your head.

"You're my friend." She said, her voice tight and tired.

"You think we can just leave with all of this? They'll know the moment we depart! We'll be blasted!" You hissed.

"No, we won't." A voice, deep, from down the hall, and the Lieutenant-Commander appeared from the dim corridor, Colonel Whitsun and Breha in tow.

This was too big for you and you felt the panic. It was too strong for you to maintain.

"All of you?" You breathed. "We'll all be killed!" You cried.

"Tahiri, get in the pod. The attack's about to commence." Breha said, leaning into the hatch.

"Not without her." Tahiri said, voice stronger than it had been a moment ago.

"Attack?" You nearly wailed as your hand covered your face and the other arm curling over your torso.

"We can't." Breha said, glancing at you. Almost pityingly. But she only saw you as an unfortunate soul caught in the maelstrom, you knew.

"Why not?" Tahiri barked, her hands balled into fists.

"You know why." Whitsun said and lifted his hand. A ball of light appeared in it and he hurtled it directly at you. Your arms came up as you screeched in surprise, but no impact came. Opening one eye, you saw as the light particles seemed to break around you into smaller, glittery pieces before fading away.

"So, she can annul force powers? Isn't that useful?" She argued.

"It's dangerous," Breha said. "They'd be able to track us before we could get out of system."

Tahiri seemed to deflate at the shoulders and then looked back at you with the sorriest expression you had ever seen on anyone ever.

"I shouldn't have," She trailed, the edges of her eyes reddening and threatening to spill. "What have I done?"

"Get in, 'Hiri," Breha ordered. "Thirty seconds before first bombardment."

"We can't just leave her, Jaina!"

"We have to," Breha looked to you. "I'm sorry you became involved. And I'm sorry for what they'll do to you once they storm this sector."

It was too much. You fell to your knees, wide eyed. Death. The punishment was death. You would be accused of being an accomplice. Assisting spies in the smuggling of important information. The Order would torture you until nothing remained.

You were so wrapped up in the thoughts, you didn't register the first volley or the alarms and chaos that followed. All you could do was collapse to the floor and sob as the four traitors climbed into the shuttle and launched.

Sparks flew, the corridor shook, a beam not to far was knocked loose, but all you could do was sob at the oncoming storm that was to be your execution.

The Judgment retreated from the system and back into friendly space, and then the troopers found you not to long after. You were dragged to a cell and processed.

Fortunately, your brain and thoughts had shut down long before they secured you into the interrogation cot.


End file.
